


Friendly Neighborhood Sociopath

by zoeticValidation



Series: This is the Thunderdome [6]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson, Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: 5+1 Things, And has a hamster, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, JD plays the saxophone, JD♠Connor forever, Larry Murphy's A+ Parenting, Mentions of Michael Mell, Nonbinary Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, feelings of friendly rivalry: unlocked, i guess you could read this as JD/connor if you're reading too much into that playlist, i love how that's an actual tag, im pretty sure JD has ptsd from libraries now, it's canon in the movie i swear, just to understand the 4th part, longest thing ive ever written holy carp, more like z-, original i know, the heathers fandom doesn't do much for JD, to be honest you'll probably want to read the story before this, you know puck the 7-eleven cashier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-11-16 23:11:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11262984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoeticValidation/pseuds/zoeticValidation
Summary: JD can't stand his new neighbor.  Thank God he'll only be here for senior year.





	Friendly Neighborhood Sociopath

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate Title: 5 Times JD Couldn't Stand Connor Murphy and the 1 Time He Was Okay With That.

1.

JD wasn’t sure if he’d ever get used to the constant variability in his life.

Did the neverending variability count as a constant in itself? JD didn’t fucking know, and he also didn’t fucking care because it never felt that way. There were only a handful of things that stayed the same. His dad was guaranteed to be a dick, and JD was guaranteed to be alone. The only thing that ever changed was the location.

JD set his minimal suitcase down in the den and walked around the empty house. It was the middle of summer, and the Deans had just flown in from some nowhere town in Oregon to a nowhere town in a nowhere state that JD couldn’t be bothered to remember the name of this time. His old houses and the places they were in were starting to blur together anyway.

He was counting down the days until he turned 18, and he could finally pack up by himself and settle down somewhere by himself. Build a routine for himself and maybe stop changing everything up every six months. Is that too much to ask of the universe? Maybe he would never get peace, maybe God just loved to fuck him over every time he let his guard down.

JD was terrified of being right.

JD opened the door to his barebones room. There was an off-white paint covering the walls and light hardwood floors under his feet. His footsteps echoed in the huge room, and he was aware of every motion he made as he strode over to the nearest window and looked out. He could see that all the houses looked almost exactly the same for miles around. Rich suburban neighborhoods were nothing new to him, he and his father were most certainly not hurting for cash.

He cracked open the window to let some air into the musty new room, and almost immediately regretted his decision. Their nearest neighbor was many yards away, there was quite a bit of space between all the houses here, but even so, JD could smell the weed from where he was. His nose crinkled in disgust. JD was partial to cigarettes himself, and always turned down the potheads offering him joints back in Oregon. It was just never his thing.

Whoever his neighbor was left their window open, likely to smoke, but it also meant JD could hear their yelling much clearer than he would have been able to before.

“ZOE GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM AND OUT OF MY LIFE! AND DON’T YOU DARE TELL MOM AND DAD ABOUT THIS OR I SWEAR I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” screeched a (presumably) male voice from the house over.

JD resisted the urge to cover his ears. Damn this guy was loud as _fuck_. Just as JD was about to shut the window, he was once again assaulted by the bone-rattling sound of drywall being kicked in with steel tipped boots. (Don’t ask how JD knows exactly what that sounds like.)

JD thought it was over, until he heard speakers practically blowing up with the song “Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing” at the loudest volume . The shrill whine of the amp was practically earsplitting, and JD had to actually cover his ears and grit his teeth. He glared at the house through the open window. He didn’t think it was actually possible to even _be_ that loud.

JD clearly wasn’t the only neighbor who was agitated. Some people in the house across the street had shut their windows an irate woman came out to see what all the racket was about. JD finally braced himself and took his hands away from his ears. He winced as the deafening music kept blaring, only louder this time without anything to muffle it. He quickly shut the window. It didn’t do too much, but at least the piercing music no longer had the same intensity that it did before.

As JD recovered from the torture his ears had been put through, he swore that he would always despise the asshole next door.

(Little did JD know, a boy named Connor Murphy made a similar promise when he saw two assholes moving into the house beside them.)

* * *

2.

After the neighbor fiasco, Bud Dean went to the Murphy’s house to complain about their son. To remedy the situation, Mrs. Murphy and Connor came by the Dean house to apologize and to welcome them to the neighbourhood. She brought gluten free cookies with her, which JD and his dad silently agreed to never touch. Mrs. Murphy did most of the actual welcoming and apologizing. All Connor really did was mutter a reluctant, “sorry” once and glare at JD and his dad the whole time.

Looked like JD’s vow to hate his neighbor would work out just fine.

By now, JD had been in town for a couple days, and after setting up his room, he decided that all he wanted to do was relax with his sax. He bid his little hamster, Hamlet, farewell as he grabbed his saxophone and went outside.

He and his dad were well off, which JD supposed he took for granted. Their backyard was huge, there was a patio with an umbrella, a pool, and a picket fence to top it all off and separate them from the neighbors. JD sat in one of the chairs and started improvising off of some old Paul Desmond song.

By the time he got to the middle of his little tune, you know, the part where you’re riffing so much you can’t tell what song it is anymore, he heard a sound behind him. He immediately stopped playing and practically threw down his sax in urgency. JD’s pocket knife was in his hand before he even knew he had consciously reached to grab it. He was _not_ getting robbed today.

He was completely on edge, and his skin prickled even more when the weird creaking/rustling noise continued. JD grit his teeth, and ran in the direction of the sound on silent feet through the grass. The noise of heavy breathing was also added on top of the other sounds, as well as a muttered, _“shit, fuck he saw me”_. When the figure finally came into view, JD found himself lowering the knife in surprise.

Connor Murphy was making a face that was a cross between a glare drier than Death Valley, and a deer caught in the headlights of a pickup truck. It wasn’t working out too well for him. He was sprawled out on the ground, clearly the result of an semi-successful attempt at climbing over the fence that divides the Murphy and Dean properties.

“I’m not sure if you know this, but it’s exceptionally discourteous to climb over a man’s fence in broad daylight without offering him wine and cheese first.” JD deadpanned, putting his pocket knife back into his pocket.

Connor didn’t get up from his eagle spread position on the ground. “Yeah well, for all my parents’ bullshit polite neighbor act, they were never very good about teaching me any actual manners. Sorry if I forgot one of the millions of arbitrary rules that go along with acting like I can stand someone.”

JD prodded at Connor with his toes. “Well, now that we’ve got the pleasantries out of the way, riddle me this Murphy: why the _fuck_ are you here?”

Connor sighed and sat up. “...I heard your saxophone playing and recognized the song. Well, you butchered it pretty bad somewhere in the middle when you started riffing away to hell, but I thought you were pretty good for a while there.”

JD gave Connor a once over. “You listen to Paul Desmond songs?”

“Well, my mom had a weird jazz phase for a while when I was a kid, and I guess some of it stuck. What, is my image not screaming “1900’s jazz fan” to you?” Connor stood up and dusted off his black skinny jeans.

“Why don’t you take your assumptions and shove them _waaaayyyy_ up your ass. But be sure to leave room so your head still fits too!” JD rolled his eyes, and ~~nearly chuckled because that was actually kind of funny~~ , pointed at the Murphy house.

“Get off of my damn property you fucking edgelord.”

“Says the guy unironically wearing a single earring.”

“Touché. Regardless, get out of here before I call the cops on your emo ass.”

Connor rolled his eyes and made his way over the fence, presumably with more success than last time.

JD shook his head and sat back down. Of course his jackass of a neighbor has similar musical interests. Which was... not a good thing. Because he didn’t like Connor Murphy one bit.

* * *

3.

JD had been in town for like 5 days now, and he was pretty desperate for some new, preferably _dark_ clothes. Who gave a fuck if it’s summertime and dark clothes only exacerbate the heat? He was more comfortable in dark clothes and was willing to suffer.

His only problem was that the only place to get any clothes within 30 miles was the mall. Not even 5 minutes into his shopping trip, and he was already fighting the incredible urge to shank every teenage girl that was checking him out in his dumb red polo shirt and cargo shorts. However, he finally found the men’s clothing section, and searched around for some suitable clothes.

He finally found what he was looking for, black shirt, black shoes, black pants, and best of all, a ratty old black trenchcoat from the clearance section. Fucking. Score.

So what if it meant he’d have to stay inside well air conditioned rooms for the rest of the summer for fear of dying of heat stroke? It’d be totally worth it.

JD went to the desk and paid for his clothes, then went to the changing room to rip off the tags and change into them. No way was he walking out of here in the prissy private school type shit he was wearing before. He shoved his old clothes into some of the many deep pockets on the inside of his trench coat.

He began to stalk out of the store as fast as he could, throwing glares at anybody looking at him the wrong way. Then he spotted something odd that stopped him in his tracks.

He saw a figure, clad in all black, in the women’s section of the store, checking out different shades of black nail polish.

That figure was Connor Murphy.

JD nearly laughed out loud. He didn’t know why he didn’t predict this before. JD strode over to where Connor was standing and cleared his throat. Connor looked up, and when he noticed it was JD, he flipped him the bird and went back to browsing nail polish.

“I’ll admit Murphy, I didn’t peg you for a homo, but it hindsight it was probably pretty obvious.”

Connor didn’t even look up, but JD saw him grit his teeth. “Wow. Local straight-boy asshole realizes his gay-dar is a piece of shit. No one is surprised by this.”

“So what happened, did your sister run out of nail polish for you to borrow? Or do you buy it for her?” Connor’s fists clenched around the tiny bottle.

“I thought you had more creative insults than this? I guess I was overestimating your intelligence.” Connor muttered dryly.

“How long does it take you to find a color close enough to the color of your soul?”

“Longer than you’d think actually.”

JD was about to respond with more sardonic humor but Connor cut him off. “Look _dipshit_ , if you’re going to stand there and keep bringing up something I already know about and hate myself for, then I got some news for you,” Connor got in JD’s face. “I. Don’t. Care.”

Connor then grabbed two bottles of nail polish, threw one last murderous look over his shoulder, and then stalked over to the register, who looked extremely uncomfortable while ringing Connor up.

JD squinted his eyes in confusion. How could Connor just, _accept_ that about himself? It also seemed like he was resigned to the fact that people would hate him for it, which made JD feel like kind of a douche. Not enough to feel guilty over a stupid joke, but just enough to make him wish he’d actually made them funny.

* * *

4.

JD’s already been in town for about a week, and the only thing that’s kept him sane is the fact that the 7-Eleven was close enough to get there on foot. For 6 days he’s been spent as much time there as Puck will allow, which is usually from when Puck gets there to when Puck has to leave. JD may be afraid to get attached, but Puck is a really cool person who’s pretty chill with JD making fancy slushies with the machine whenever he wants as long as he pays.

Puck is a bit a weird though, in the sense that they have an oddly shakespearean vernacular.

As JD watched Michael Mell walk out of the 7-Eleven, Puck put their hands on their face in mock surprise.

“Doth mine eyes deceive me! T’appears as though the solitudinous Jason Dean has made acquaintance with Sirrah Michael Mell. O what a glorious awakening of which I have witnessed!” Puck snickered which quickly evolved into roaring laughter.

JD rolled his eyes. “Laugh it up chief, but wait and see if I ever set foot in this establishment again after this humiliation.”

Puck started laughing even harder. “As if thou could resist the divine call of the slushie machine! The temptation has too strong of a grip upon you, methinks you cannot fool me into believing your lies for even a second!”

JD smiled and payed for his drink (and Michael’s) and waved the friendly cashier goodbye. Contrary to what he told Michael, if he didn’t show up at home sometime soon his dad would be pissier than usual.

He thought about how well his exchange with Michael went. Maybe it wouldn’t kill him to make a couple friends, some people who would stick by him no matter what. People he would do anything for.

Michael would be one of those people.

As he was walking home, he noticed some noises coming from the back alley behind the 7-Eleven. He braced himself to deal with some asshole(s) who would try to mug him, but in the harsh light of day, he noticed, and recognized one of the figures.

“Pete my man, pass me the joint, I’m gonna try ghosting the smoke.” lilted a voice that JD recognized as his insufferable neighbor, the one and only Connor Murphy.

A hispanic man in a sleeveless hoodie handed Connor a rolled up joint. “Knock yourself out homie, but I don’t think this’ll work out too well for you. When Sonny tried that shit he was coughing for hours.”

Connor snatched it away and took a drag. He exhaled the smoke, but didn’t let it go far before he suddenly inhaled it back into his mouth again. He held it for a few seconds before letting it go. The Pete guy looked mildly impressed, or as impressed as you can be when you’re high off your ass.

Connor pumped his fists in victory, and then noticed JD standing there and watching him. His expression changed so fast that if JD had blinked he would have missed it.

“Fucking hell it’s you! The fuck are you staring at me for?” Connor shouted, woozily getting to his feet.

JD took a long, sarcastic sip of his Slushie before replying, “I was just admiring your smoke tricks. I’m sure that gets you in the good books with your dealer over there,” Pete looked up and glared at him. JD continued. “Although, I’m gonna have even more fun explaining this to your parents-’

Connor had him slammed against the wall before JD even saw him move. “You wouldn’t DARE tell my _fucking_ parents jackass! Just because my mom brought over nasty ass gluten free cookies one time doesn’t mean that you can just waltz into my life like you actually care about me or what I’m doing!”

When JD was pinned against the wall, his slushie had gone flying out of his hand and had spilled all over the dirty alley ground. He watched in dismay as his favorite drink was melting into a quickly expanding puddle on the ground. Suddenly all he could feel was anger. Connor was just a stupid fucking stoner who would probably never amount to anything, so why _did_ JD care about him smoking weed? It wasn’t his fucking problem, and now it’s even costing him.

JD brutally shoved Connor away from him. “You’re right Murphy, I don’t care about your stupid problems, but I guess that’s your whole problem right? Nobody cares about your punk ass do they?”

Then Connor’s hand reared back like he was going to punch him, so JD braced himself. A fight was nothing he couldn’t handle, especially with some teen who was extremely baked. But then tears started rushing to Connor’s eyes. His murderous expression didn’t waver, but now he was also crying on top of everything else.

JD wasn’t completely sure how to respond to the situation, but he did know that he could do at least one little thing to help. He looked Connor right in the eyes and begrudgingly said, “I’m sorry. For saying nobody cares.” Connor nodded, and slid back to sitting on the ground, looking completely exhausted.

Pete, who had been watching from the sidelines, too stoned to really contribute, made a dismissive motion at JD. “Go home little dude, I’ll get him back to his place later.”

JD nodded tersely at him, and began the trek home. When he passed by the Murphy household on the way to his own, he couldn’t help but hate that he sincerely cared about Connor.

5.

One absurdly hot early July afternoon, JD craved some peace and quiet.

It might seem like a weird craving to an outsider though, because JD’s house was almost always quiet. The empty kind of quiet, of rooms that are too big for two people that hardly ever speak to each other. However, the Dean household is far from peaceful in JD’s opinion. The passive aggressive barbs he and his father trade are like ammunition in a gun and the house is the battlefield.

7-Eleven was undergoing some kind of maintenance today, much to JD’s consternation. There was only one other quiet place that JD could think of, even if they were going out of fashion these days. JD got off the bus and faced the building in front of him, fighting back his urge to run and cry for his mother.

He knew she couldn’t answer.

Libraries were certainly not a constant in JD’s world. In every place, the library was different, at different times of year, the same library could be an entirely different location, and in some places they get torn down before you even get the chance to make a second visit...

But libraries in general were calming, nice places. JD walked through the historical fiction section let the smell of old books soothe him. This was nice. He could handle this. He was 17 years old, and he wasn’t going to let his past control him anymore.

He just wanted _one_ good memory in just _one_ of these accursed places. Was that too much to ask? He didn’t want the last association he had with a library to be staring in confusion as his mother waved to him from _that fucking library_ in Kans-

And then he turned a corner.

“Ow! Watch where you’re going asshole!” whisper-shouted a livid Connor Murphy. When JD had walked around the corner of the shelf, he’d bumped into Connor, sending both of them sprawling onto the floor.

JD rolled his eyes and picked himself back up. “Always a pleasure to see you again.” he muttered quietly.

Connor picked up the book that he had been holding before he was knocked into, and stood back on his feet. “Well hardee-fucking-har. What, did you come here to mock me some more now that I’m sober, is that it?” he accused.

JD sighed. “As if I’d actually have the time to track you down at the public library and mock you for reading...” JD peered at the cover of the book Connor’s holding and is a bit shocked to see it. “...Catch-22...”

Connor got defensive. “What’s your problem now? Never read a book with more than 3 pages before?”

JD shook his head. “No, it’s just that I love that book. And here I thought that you’d be the type of person to use book pages to roll up your joints,” Connor scoffed at him but JD kept talking. “So, have you found yourself in any double-binds recently?”

Connor stared at him for a few seconds before sighing. “Yeah actually. Fucking Larry’s being an ass again, but this time he’s a hypocritical one.”

“Isn’t Larry your dad?” JD raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

“Who cares. Anyway, he tells me and my mom that I can go to therapy if I can prove that I’m not just causing trouble for attention. But no matter what I do, I’m always just an _attention seeking brat_ to him. Even bringing up therapy in a casual conversation is a cry for attention to him!” Connor was pulling on his hair by now in frustration.

JD understood Connor’s emotions, not from experience exactly, but being trapped by circumstance was something he was not unfamiliar with. JD was never good with the whole... ‘comforting people thing’, since the last time he’d been comforted himself had been before Kansas. So he just did the thing that people in books and movies did all the time when someone they know is distressed.

He put a hand on Connor’s shoulder in a half-assed attempt to calm him down. Connor flinched and immediately slapped his hand away.

 _“Don’t. Fucking. Touch me.”_ he rasped, a desperate edge in his voice.

JD withdrew his hand and considered the boy before him. Connor clearly had problems. JD also had problems, such as the incredibly overwhelming urge leave the library and never set foot inside one ever again. Or the fact that he gave up on caring about people for _so long_ that he’s not sure if he can pull it off correctly anymore.

A part of him wanted to hate Connor because he was the first person that JD had felt actual emotions for in years instead of the frigid numbness that he’d been living in before. Granted, that initial emotion was hate on sight ever since the incident with the window, but it was still a _feeling_.

Even now, it was still hate, but it was deeper than just shallow loathing. It was deeper because there were things he _liked_ about Connor. He had a good taste in music, judging by all the shit he blasted out his window at the loudest possible volume ever since he realized JD hated it. He had a good taste in literature, judging by his preference for books like Catch-22. He even had a good taste in clothing, judging by his ability to rock steel tipped boots, black nail polish, and long brown hair all at the same time.

_Well fuck, I’m already in too deep at this point anyway, might as well go all in._

“Look, I’m sorry about your dad alright? But who even cares about him, in a year you can finally fuck off and do whatever you want, so why even waste energy and time on hating your shitty dad?”

“I can’t just ignore him forever!” Connor objected.

JD shrugged. “It works for me.”

Connor glanced at JD like he was seeing him for the first time. “I don’t know why, but I guess I assumed you and your dad like, got along.”

JD cracked a grin. “There’s a joke about shoving your assumptions somewhere else, but I’m afraid it’s a bit worn out by now.”

Connor let out a harsh little laugh. “I guess I kinda deserve that one.”

“Let me be honest with you, I don’t particularly like you. Like, at all,” Connor made a get to the point gesture with his hands. “But even I can tell we’ve got some things in common. I’m alright with being bitchy neighbors who occasionally talk to each other if you are.”

Connor nodded stiffly at him. “Yeah. I am.”

* * *

+1.

\-- chaoticCreation [CC] began pestering unholyHumanity [UH] \--  
  
CC: Hey asshole.  
UH: Greetings and salutations jackass  
CC: I made something.  
CC: Or, I guess I technically “compiled” you something?  
CC: It’s not like I wrote the damn music myself.  
CC: But anyway, here: https://www.spotify.com  
CC: Hope you hate it.  
  
\-- chaoticCreation [CC] ceased pestering unholyHumanity [UH] \--

JD rolled his eyes at Connor’s jab and followed the link to a custom spotify playlist.

> I Hate You  
>  [3 Doors Down - I Hate Everything About You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d8ekz_CSBVg&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC&index=1)  
>    
>  And Everything  
>  [IAMX - Volatile Times](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oVGh3vgITbs&index=490&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC)  
>    
>  You Stand For  
>  [Foster The People - Pumped Up Kicks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDTZ7iX4vTQ)  
>    
>  However  
>  [Two Gallants - Despite What You’ve Been Told](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jOwH8BPvFnI&index=803&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC)  
>    
>  I Think  
>  [Panic! at the Disco - I Have Friends In Holy Spaces](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNRlOFHgDys&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC&index=810)  
>    
>  That You’re Cool  
>  [The Neighbourhood - Sweater Weather](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GCdwKhTtNNw)  
>    
>  Mostly Infuriating  
>  [Two Total Strangers Have Saxophone Battle On NYC Subway Train](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1_9IMZcbKHQ&index=660&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC)  
>    
>  But You Try  
>  [Keane - Somewhere Only We Know](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oextk-If8HQ&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC&index=861)  
>    
>  To Understand Me  
>  [Twenty 0ne Pilots - We Don’t Believe What’s On TV](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xszk6Fy2NEI&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC&index=392)  
>    
>  So That  
>  [Dave Brubeck - Take Five](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vmDDOFXSgAs&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC&index=113)  
>    
>  Has To Count  
>  [Fall Out Boy - Young Volcanoes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dqzHeEXIzQk&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC&index=342)  
>    
>  For Something  
>  [Matchbox 20 - How Far We’ve Come](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wTWOAJJ9s1g&list=PLKCY-QD3MXdhBDuQnupukqMzysPb6NlBC&index=718)

JD will never admit to anyone that he spent nearly an hour listening to the whole thing that afternoon, nor will he admit that he sincerely liked some of it. Nope, if you asked him about it, he’d insult Connor’s awful taste in music, and that he disliked every song.

(Connor will never admit to anyone that he actually wasted 3 hours scouring through someone’s comically large music playlist to find the right songs, nor will he admit that he put any thought into the activity whatsoever.)

**Author's Note:**

> -writing JD is so heccin hard  
> -i hate number 3 tbh, it's pretty trash i just needed the last one.  
> -if any of you actually listened to any of the trash songs that i put in that playlist i'll love you forever  
> -but if i have to recommend one please just watch the two random strangers with saxophones  
> -that shit was hilarious  
> -okay, i'm done writing boys for a little bit, im focusing on some gAY zolana shit next  
> -and then a one shot focused on how the heathers all met  
> -then a christine canigula one shot because she is precious  
> -so stick around for that  
> -i love you all :>


End file.
